I'm Not Your Toy
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Harry has never known freedom, but perhaps, one day, he'll know happiness.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Challenges listed at the bottom.**

 **Word Count - 1814**

 _AN : Voldemort Wins, and also some of the details from Canon have been played with._

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 **I'm Not Your Toy**

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The cell was tiny, barely two steps from one wall to the next. A pile of threadbare blankets lay in on corner, and a bucket sat parallel to them.

Harry leant back against the bars, staring up at the small barred window high up in his cell. He could just see strips of moonlight shining on the bars.

He'd been in the cell for close to three weeks, he thought, and he was already scared of falling into the madness of solitude. It wasn't like in a muggle prison, where the guards brought food three times a day.

Here, his food just arrived in his cell, likely from house-elves, so he didn't even have the comfort of seeing another being at food times.

He was used to being alone, but he'd never been completely without any company at all.

A bang behind him made him jump before he scrambled to the other side of the cell, sitting on top of his blankets with his back to the wall.

A scream followed by the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the prison area. Harry watched with wide eyes as a familiar head of bushy hair was pushed into view, fighting all the way. A muttered spell, and her body went suddenly limp.

He watched as Hermione was picked up and thrown unceremoniously into the cell beside his own. As the barred door was locked securely, her body became reanimated. She picked herself up from the floor and launched herself at the bars, shouting and screaming nonsensical words with righteous anger.

The cloaked figure who'd dropped her off left without a word, and a second bang echoed.

"You're only going to hurt your throat, screaming like that," Harry murmured, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Harry? Oh my god, Harry!"

"Hermione," Harry greeted quietly, his lips tilting up slightly. "How did you get caught?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea. But they're going to save us, Harry. I know they will! We've been so worried about you!"

Harry sighed. "Nobody is coming to save us, Hermione. They don't have the strength or the manpower. Since Dumbledore… If they try and save us, they'll all end up here _with_ us, or die. There is no escape from here."

"You don't know what might happen, Harry. They could save us, we have to keep hope. You could still have a happy future."

Harry snorted. "If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention."

"You can't lose hope, Harry."

Sighing, Harry decided not to answer her. He could see the determination to believe in their friends in her eyes, and honestly, he didn't want to take that hope away.

"Tell me about the others. How are they?" he asked instead.

News from home would be something new to focus on, a luxury after spending so much time stuck with only his own mind for company.

…

Harry had grown up with the Order of the Phoenix, a rebellion group against the rule of the self proclaimed Lord Voldemort. His parents had been murdered in an attack, and Harry had been the only survivor.

Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the rebellion, had taken a special interest in Harry. He'd a scar on his forehead, the only mark on him from the battle, and Dumbledore had immediately known what it was, though he hadn't told Harry about it for many years.

Harry was a soul carrier, he had a part of Voldemort's soul inside his body, attached to his own soul. According to Dumbledore, that made him the key to Voldemort's downfall, but Harry had seen no evidence of such a thing.

He'd been locked away for most of his life, deemed unsafe to be allowed out with the other children and teens that lived at the headquarters.

Then Dumbledore had died.

It was almost a relief to Harry, who was suddenly allowed a freedom he'd never known before. The rebellion fell apart at the seams with nobody ready to take over the leadership, and Harry slipped through the cracks.

He was allowed to speak with the others, eat with them, learn the games that they'd grown up playing while he'd been in his room with nothing but books for company and a daily visit from Albus or one of the few adults he trusted.

He'd quickly found a friend in Hermione, who'd been shocked beyond measure when he'd explained the way he'd grown up to her. She was a muggleborn, had been saved by the Order when the Death Eaters attacked the town where she lived.

"I don't know how you stand it," she'd said, horrified by the idea of a life locked away.

He'd shrugged at the time. "It doesn't matter. I'm free now."

Three weeks later, he'd been kidnapped by cloaked figures who'd crowed excitedly about how happy Their Lord would be with them.

...

Meeting Voldemort in person was strange for Harry. For so long, he'd been told that he encased a part of the man's soul with his own, and yet, they'd never once met.

"I hear you are still unhappy."

Harry stared. He'd been wondering on the reason for this sudden meeting, but his happiness being the reason hadn't even crossed his mind.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," he admitted.

"Are you not grateful that I had your friend brought to you," Voldemort asked, his head tilting curiously. "I thought you might be getting lonely."

"I'd rather she be free to live her life," Harry replied quietly. "I'd never wish a jail cell on anyone."

"If I set her free now, she'll only tell the rebellion of your continued existence. It might give them the extra passion they need to begin open warfare, and none of us want that. If you no longer desire her company, we can take her out of the picture. Permanently."

Harry shook his head. "Obliviate her. Please don't kill her. Please."

"And what of you?"

Harry blinked. "What of me?"

"What am I to do with you, Harry Potter. You know that I cannot kill you, nor do I wish for you to fall to madness sitting alone in a cell for the rest of eternity."

"Then let me go."

"You know I cannot do that. _Imperio_."

Harry hadn't even seen him pick his wand up. He felt floaty, almost as though he'd left his body, but a familiar voice in his head whispered, "Remember who you are."

He knew the effects of imperio, almost wanted the feeling of freeness that came with it, but Dumbledore had long since taught him to fight it's effects.

Not wanting to fight, he acted the docile puppet, waiting for an order.

"Sit in the corner of the room and don't move until I tell you too."

Harry turned and did as he was bid. As he sat down, a comfortable silk, gold cushion appeared beneath him. He sank into the soft pillow, the comfort a far cry from the hard stone he was forced to sit on in his cell.

Lucius Malfoy was called into the office. The only sign that he'd even seen Harry was the slight widening of his eyes when he entered the room.

"Have Miss Granger escorted to the Obliviators. I do not want her to remember anything of her time here, nor do i wish for her to find her way back to the rebellion. She is to be set up in a house with enough muggle money for her to have a life there away from magic."

"My Lord," Lucius replied, his tone nervous. He bowed deeply, and left, clearly realising that there had been an unsaid dismissal at the end of Voldemort's orders.

"Perhaps, Harry, one day you will sit with me in this office without the use of a spell. I am a patient man, and after all, he have forever."

And that was the moment that Voldemort became Tom for Harry.

…

A blissful month of pretending to be under Imperious and following orders flowed from that first meeting.

Tom had Harry act the part of a pet, a toy, though he often voiced his desire that Harry would want to be there voluntarily, that he would want to be someone Tom could call his own, that he could spend however long eternity turned out ot be with.

The gold cushion was made a permanent feature of Tom's office, though it was moved from the corner, to beside the desk.

Unexpectedly, Tom was a tactile man, and he often had a hand buried in Harry's messy hair, playing with the strands.

He dressed Harry up in the oddest assortment of robes and colours. A few times, Harry had physically had to force himself not to react to the them.

After so long in the cold of his cell, Harry reveled in the warm office, and the long hours spent in comfort, though he did often wish he could talk openly to Tom.

After so long listening to the words of the Order, the picture of Voldemort he'd had in his head didn't quite match up to the reality.

Oh, he was ruthless. Cruel occasionally, and Harry had seen him be downright violent to those that followed him when they failed him. And yet, there were times when he could be compassionate, understanding, and… human.

He got hungry, tired, lonely, just the same as anyone else made of flesh and blood. It was that man that Harry slowly came to see, to like. It was that man that Harry almost made the mistake of speaking with, answering his questions.

It was that man that made him wonder if pretending to be under the Imperius curse was really what he should be doing.

...

" _Imperio."_

Harry stared at Tom for a moment, before he shook his head slowly.. "I'm not your toy, Tom," he murmured. "I stay at my behest and not that of your wand."

Tom met his gaze with narrowed eyes, before he smirked. "I wondered how long you would continue to act as though my spells had any effect on you."

Harry's lips twitched as he fought a smile. "How long have you known?"

"Since the first time," Tom replied, nearing him to wrap his arms around Harry's waist. "I thought to let it play out, see how long it took you to trust me."

"And did I meet your expectations?"

"You exceeded them, as you always seem to do," Tom admitted. "I rather expected it to take much longer."

Harry smirked. "You know that I won't let you keep playing barbie with me now, right?"

Tom shook his head, laughing. "You looked rather fetching in the pink."

Shaking his head, Harry allowed Tom to press a gentle kiss against his lips. Perhaps Hermione hadn't been far wrong when she'd said Harry still had a chance at happiness.

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 **Written for;**

 **Character Appreciation -** 29\. "I don't know how you can stand it."

 **Disney -** Q2 : "Remember who you are."

 **Shannon's Showcase -** 2\. Israel - I'm Not Your Toy / Barbie

 **Angels Games Room -** Bowser - Tom Riddle / Kidnapping someone / gold

 **Showtime - 4.** Righteous

 **Geek Pride, Stand 2 -** Game Of Thrones - "If you think this has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention.

 **Geek Pride, Stand 4 -** Scarf - Wrap / Long / Warm

 **Debate Club, Team Fanon -** Passion

 **Cooking Corner -** Pink Grapefruit - Pink

 **Scavenger Hunt -** 9\. Laughing / Moonlight / Madness.

 **Insane House -** 305\. Imperio


End file.
